Bonk Trouble
by ThisisPorky
Summary: Scouts Bonk is taken from him, and Heavy decides to taunt him a little. Everything makes no sense.


'Heavy, stop. Give it ta me now before ya spill it!'

'Nyet!'

'HEAVY! D'here ain't no point hidin'! I'll fuckin' find ya, and when 'a do, I'll throttle ya fat throat in!'

'Come get me, leetle man!' With that, the Heavy dashed off at a surprising speed with a can of opened bonk in his right paw from behind a bunch of crates. A smile wider than the Cheshire's toothy smile was plastered to his chubby face as the Scout dashed off after him in a mad rage of wanting his bonk back, which had been taken off him for reasons the Medic could only describe as a "Heaven-send".

'Heavy! Get da fuck back 'ere ya fat-ass!' Screamed the Scout, his feet pounding the dirt hard. All the bear did was laugh and run on, un-concerned of the boys angry voice quickly bearing down on him. He soon got to a dead end, and with that smile still plastered to his freshly shaven face, turned around and faced Scout, a happy scowl now passing across his face. The boy skidded to a stop, a cloud of dust quickly rising around him before slowly sinking again, flying softly to the left thanks to the wind. It was like a Texan stand-off. The Heavy had both hands out to his sides, his back arched, like he was ready to pull out a revolver and shoot. Scouts, however, was straight, bandaged hands balled into fists and his eyes squinted in anger. His hat cast a nice shadow over his eyes to add to the effect of slightly creepiness and anger.

'Give. Me. Da motha' fuckin'. Bonk. Now.' He cursed quietly, slowly getting closer to the bear. Heavy was just having too much fun at the moment.

'Make me. Vhat leetle baby going to do; cry for baby drink?' Scouts eyes squinted more, his knuckles turning white. He hadn't had Bonk for three days now, and the more days that slowly passed, the more angrier and snappy the boy had become. With the help of Medic, Heavy had hidden his energy drink else-where from the Scouts hands because he wasn't sleeping. He still wasn't sleeping properly, but it was considerably better. How he still had the strength in him was a mystery to Medic.

The dark rings and bags under his eyes remained, however, a sign that it wasn't getting better and that he wasn't getting the rest he needed so badly at the moment. At the dinner table, Pyro had lost count of how many times his head had dropped to his chest and small snores were coming from him, him having to shake him awake again so he didn't face the Solider's shouts to the face.

'Look, 'a swear! Give it ta me, man! Before 'a hit ya head in!' The Scout walked forward slowly, the rain clouds slowly floating in above them.

'Come at me, tiny baby man.' As they squared up to each other, a roar of thunder was heard in the distance, making the boy flinch suddenly. He looked up to see the Heavy unfazed by the event that just happened, that smirk still there. The can was still in his paw, as if taunting the boy to come and fight the much bigger man in front of him for the prize.

A flash of lighting followed the thunder, lighting everything up for a milla second before being plunged into darkness again, and the first few rain-drops fell to the dusty ground. Strange how the weather changed in a matter of minuets, huh - from sunny clear weather to rain and windy. But it didn't bother the two classes. The rain simply dripped off the two, not even the cold wind made them shiver and retreat back to the base. One, filled with anger, wanted something precious of his back, and no weather would stop him from getting his prize back.

If only bats were involved; it would be a pretty good fighting scene. After a moment of staring at each other, it was the Heavy that made the first move. He straightened out, making the Scout across from him flinch slightly. He wanted to go to bed, but he wanted his Bonk back, too.

'You should get some rest. You can have Bonk back vhen you do sleep.'

"Ya said 'dat last time; I ain't fallin' for that shit trick again.'

'Vell, ve could stay out here and square off to each other. You vill catch bad cold. Then you vill have no Bonk for veeks on end.'

''A want... mah bonk...now...then, and only then, will 'a go inside...'

The Heavy's smirk loosened, but it didn't completely disappear. 'You going to have to fight for it if you vant it that bad.'

'Fine, fatty!' He lept forward, his hands ready to be wrapped around his neck. But all the Heavy did was lift his arm and use it like a barrier. Scout collided straight into it, but that didn't stop him. Sure, he was weak, tired, and all the wind had been knocked out of him, but his fighting sprite wasn't weak. Not when it came down to the thing he loved and cherished with all his heart. 'Gimme it!' He cried, his bandaged hands clawing for the can, which was held out of his reach by the much taller man. 'Now!'

'No!'

'Why da hell not?!'

'You need sleep, vhich you vill not get vhen on this!'

'I dun care!'

'Da, you do! Just get proper sleep!' His words fell on deaf ears, and the boy just clawed and clawed for the drink. The rain fell down harder, the flashes were more brighter and the roars of thunder were getting louder, and the wind was getting progressively colder, but none of it stopped him. He was shivering and sniffling, but he didn't care. But after a while of fighting, he soon grew limp. He was now breathing heavily, and his claws were getting weaker with every passing second. Heavy knew he was cold, and he knew he would catch something if he stayed out in this sort of weather any longer. As soon as he got some proper rest, he would allow him a can of bonk. A single can of the stuff.

'Come on, baby man.' He spoke gently, wrapping the arm used as a barrier around the boys waist. He heaved him up, placing him on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before walking towards the door of the base. The paw that was holding the bonk was slipped into his trouser pocket. The mans left arm made sure he didn't fall, his hand near the Scouts neck while his other hand rested just above the Scouts butt. The kid was that knackered that he didn't even fight back or struggles. He just let him arms flop onto the mans back and legs dangle lifelessly on his chest. His eyes were closed, and his body fell limp. 'Ve get you dried and changed, da?' The bear asked, that smirk still there.

'Mmm...whateva'...' Scout muttered, nodding his head lifelessly with every step the man made. Rain pattered on his back and neck, but he was too tired to groan or complain. It was like the tiredness had just come to him, finally claimed him, and now he was finally going to sleep for a long while rather than just an hour or so.

'Doktor?' Heavy called gently, looking inside. He still held the Scout like a sack of potatoes, the boy snoring lightly.

'Ja?' Came the German voice that everyone knew and feared. He came into sight, the glasses at the end of his nose and hands behind his back. 'Heavy? Vhat is vrong with ze Scout? And vhy are you both wet?'

'I just come in to see if Scout has anything.'

'Like...?'

'A cold or something.'

'...Have you two been out in ze rain?'

'...Kind of, yes.'

'Zat would explain vhy you are dripping all over ze floors. Do not worry - I vill clean it up later.' The Heavy chuckled as he followed the Medic to one of the infirmary beds, where he gently patted it. The Russian bear nodded gently and slowly placed the boy on top of it, being careful as he flipped him around. 'How did you get him to sleep?'

'Let him have small brawl.'

'Oh? Vith who?'

'Me.' His German laughter filled the room as he reached for a thermometer, the laughs falling on deaf ears once more to the boy.

'I find zat hard to believe. I mean, he haz no wounds or bruises anyvhere.'

'I did not fight back. He just had leetle tantrum trying to get Bonk.'

'Vhat have I told you about zat?' He opened the boys mouth and popped the stick in, the rain sliding down off his forehead slowly, which he whipped away with a clean hankie from his pocket. 'Az funny az it may be, it vill drive him mad, as proven.' The Heavy just laughed.

'I sorry, it was too tempting. At least he sleeping now.'

'Ja, I suppose zat is good.' He smiled, and after a small while, took the thermometer out of his mouth, checking it. 'Hmm...a small rise in temperature, but nothing major. You should change his clothes, since he is all wet. You should, too, herr, Heavy, before ze both of you catch something.' The bear nodded gently.

'Okay. Thanks, Doktor.'

'No problem.' With that, the Heavy looked down to the boy again. He was breathing slowly, deeply, peacefully. He wasn't moving about or running his mouth, he was still, and quiet for once.

'It sure is quiet vithout him talking all ze time, huh?' The Medic joked, putting the thermometer in the sink and returning to his desk. Heavy laughed gently and nodded in agreement.

'Da, it is.' Scooping the boy up once more, he carried him bridal style towards his room. He groaned gently and shifted about, but settled back down again and nuzzled weakly into the warmth of the other. Because Heavy was bigger than Scout, even when wet, he stored more warmth than the boy could ever imagine, one of the things he secretly liked when near the Heavy.

Kicking Scouts door open gently with his foot, he walked in. His room was a mess! But then again, it always was when it belonged to the Scout. Yet not so many cans of Bonk laid everywhere. Only a few cans. A lot less than what it used to be, and it would soon turn back to that habit again, sooner or later. Scout would fight for the energy drink he loved, and he wouldn't care who it was against.

He was always scared of the Medic. Whenever he saw him, the German made the Bostons skin crawl and a shiver crept down his spine. As soon as he took away his Bonk for way too many reasons to note down, it was like he was snapped out of a trance. He would linger near the infirmary, his hands itching to steal away what was rightfully his in the first place. And he has. He stole a few bonks the first day they disappeared, but only managed to down one can before the German stomped into his room and took them away again. Scout damn right near killed him if it wasn't for Spy, who managed to pull the angry kid away.

Seeing spare clothes laying around, the Heavy just shuck his head. At least it would be easier to find them rather than having to look in the many draws that he had.

Placing the boy down on his bed, he walked over to what looked like a crumpled red T-shirt. He then walked over to crumpled trousers that had been flung over the small wooden chair and long forgotten. 'Baby Scout need to be more cleaner...' The bear muttered under his breath before approaching him again.

Taking off his wet shirt, he quickly replaced it, covering old yet faint scars on his slim stomach. He used the old shirt to dry off his dog-tags before tossing it to the floor near the door. The grey pants were more difficult and damn right awkward to do, but he managed to take them off and replace them with dry pants, leaving the belt on the bed-side table. Next, he slipped off his running shoes. His socks weren't really wet, so he left them on. "Now," He began to the sleeping Scout, placing the shoes next to the bed. 'I vant you to sleep. Maybe even have lay-in. ...Yes, have lay-in, too. Do not care vhat baby Solider says. I vill take care of him if he bug you." He smiled gently and took off his hat and ear-piece, dumping them on the bed-side table next to the belt before ruffling his short light-brown hair gently. "You just leetle kid, is all." Slipping a hand into his pocket, he took out the Bonk and placed it next to his hat. "You need strength, and this seems to give it to you.'

The boy mumbled gently before turning away from the man, his still bandaged hands close to his head as he breathed deeply. That reminded Heavy to take them off, too, since they were wet. Reaching over, his started to unbind them, Scout mumbling and moaning gently as he did so, making him smile and almost chuckle. 'They are wet.' He said, the left hand now un-bandaged. He moved to the right one, and soon his hands could be seen. Not that the bear had ever seen his hands, he'd only seen his fingers, never his hands. They looked pale yet soft. Hell, they felt it!

Dumping the wet cloth in the bin, he reached into his left pocket and retrieved a white hanker-chief. He dabbed it over the boys wet forehead gently, wiping away the left-over water so he didn't catch anything or it didn't bug him while he slept. Scout giggled gently, moving his head about, as if trying to get out of his reach but failing.

'Good night, leetle man.' With that, the man got up and took his leave, turning off the lamp which was, once again, on the famous bed-side table. It had been on all day since he'd forgotten to switch it off, so it needed a rest. The Russian bear scooped up his wet clothes, closing the door carefully, plunging the room into darkness.

Needless to say, when the Scout woke up, he was both confused and over-joyed. Confused since he remembered nothing of what happened last night, and over-joyed to see his Bonk sitting so close to him after being banned from having it for three days. It seemed to glow in its own little light, and the Scouts jaw dropped right to the floor. Snatching it up, he gulped it down before anyone could march in and demand it back. The energy shot through him, giving him a buzzy and good feeling in the stomach. Crushing the can, he aimed and missed the bin, but didn't give two shits about the mess.

He was feeling better than ever.


End file.
